Underneath
by jemima-blue
Summary: Summary: Smallish story about our straightlaced girl and that guy with all that pent up energy...no not Rodney! Methinks there's a lot more going on under the surface with these two than we see. RonanElizabeth. Spoilery for all, just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Summary: Smallish story about our straightlaced girl and that guy with all that pent up energy and the awesome, erm, bum (no not Rodney!) Methinks there's a lot more going on under the surface with these two than we see.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance...eventually.

Author's Note: RonanElizabeth...my secret obsession!! Don't tell my Sparky sisters!

1.

The balcony door opened behind her with a whoosh of air. Elizabeth sighed, but didn't turn. She could have guessed that her respite from the rigors of running the city would be brief. She leaned over the railing and peered down at the water so far below her. The waves crashed noiselessly against the edge of the city, foam building up against the glossy metallic surfaces, before fading away into the clear, blue green waters.

When John didn't speak, she turned slightly to look over her shoulder, then started to find Ronan, not John, standing just steps behind her. Her hand flew self-consciously to tug at a curl lying against the side of her neck, before facing him quickly. "Ronan," she smoothed her palms down the front of her pants. Realizing she was fidgeting, she clasped her hands tightly in front of her. 'What can I do for you?"

He was close enough to the doorway that his face was in the shadows of the city looming high overhead, his eyes dark and unreadable. Not that Ronan was all that expressive in the bright light of day, Elizabeth thought ruefully. "Dr. Beckett sent me to check on you." He left it at that, no other explanation given.

Elizabeth sighed inwardly. Carson had requested she pay him a visit this afternoon. She wasn't in the least bit interested in being poked, prodded or otherwise "gone over" as Dr. Beckett so cutely put it. He had bullied her into promising to stop by after lunch…using a guilt trip about the city needing their leader in top notch condition. Add to that a thicker than usual brogue, and Elizabeth had found herself agreeing. She hadn't forgotten, exactly…She just hadn't found the time yet this afternoon to make it to the infirmary. Glancing down at her watch, she was surprised to realize it was almost five in the afternoon.

"Oh, my, I hadn't realized it was getting so late," she gave Ronan a polite smile. "I'll head over to see him immediately."

Ronan's expression remained unreadable. "Ok," he said somewhat offhandedly before flicking his wrist in front of the door's activation panel and disappearing through it. Elizabeth's chin dropped to her chest, vaguely disappointed in the exchange.

She sighed again before belatedly following Ronan through the door and down the corridor to the infirmary. In her head she was already forming her words & their delivery before facing the doctor. Why she hadn't been eating (Oh, but I have, I'm usually late to the kitchens and take something back to my office or room." This was a lie, but the truth would only get her a lecture.) How was she sleeping? (Oh, much better now with the occasional sleeping pill you prescribed." Also a lie. She hadn't slept a full eight hours since leaving Earth two years ago. She doubted very much that would be changing any time soon.)

She was so deep in thought she never noticed the Satedan watching her from the shadows, then following from a safe distance to ensure she made it to her destination. When she crossed the threshold of the infirmary, he turned and made his way back down the corridor, suddenly deciding he could use a sparring session. Retracing his steps past the balcony where he had found Elizabeth he faltered. Pausing, he spontaneously stepped through the doors, walking to the exact spot where she had stood. He lifted his face to the salty breeze, and for a second he thought he could smell her, a trick of his imagination. He gripped the bars of the balcony edge as she had done, leaning over to stare in to the water below. Why did she come here so often?

He assumed it was for peace, but he was certainly not more relaxed out here. If anything he was more agitated. He frowned when that scent hit his nostrils again…faint, but fragrant. Like a fruit or flower that he couldn't identify. Except that he knew what that scent was. Elizabeth Weir. She had tossed her head while walking in front of him in the commissary weeks ago, and ever since then he had found himself identifying her all over the city. It was slightly unnerving. Even more so since the woman could barely stand to look at him. Ronan pushed away from the bars roughly and went in search of a sparring partner.

A patch of dark red near the door caught his gaze. Her jacket. He bent over to retrieve it and resisted the urge to bring it to his nose. He didn't need to. The breeze carried the scent, stronger now, upward, enveloping his head. He balled the jacket in his fist, and started to fling it to the ground, but thought better of it. He could take it to her office and leave it. Or to her quarters later tonight. If he happened to miss her in her office.

Ronan went over the other places he might "miss" her between now and the very late hour that he would be able to catch Dr. Weir in her quarters. Realizing he couldn't very well go walking into the gyms with her jacket in his hand, he turned instead toward his quarters. He could leave the jacket there until later, when he had a better chance of catching her.

Once that was taken care of, he made once more for the gym. When he walked by her open office door, he didn't let himself think of how he could have dropped the jacket off there. He didn't let himself think at all.


	2. Chapter 2

-1_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Summary: Smallish story about our straightlaced girl and that guy with all that pent up energy and the awesome, erm, bum (no not Rodney!) Methinks there's a lot more going on under the surface with these two than we see. RonanElizabeth...my secret obsession!! (Yes, Sparky has my heart first tho...LOL)

Rating: T

Genre: Romance...eventually.

Author's Note: A little bit from Liz's perspective. Hee.

2.

At dinner, she carried her tray toward an empty table. Ronan entered the room, his huge presence filling the doorframe. Their eyes collided briefly before she quickly looked away. Cursing herself for acting like a ninny again, Elizabeth bit her lip and looked up intending to smile a greeting at him. Ronan was picking his way through the crowd, away from her. She sat down. She had done it again.

Every time she came in contact with Ronan Dex she made a fool of herself. Well, ok, not every time, she corrected herself. There had been a couple of times she had had to exert her authority as leader of this expedition, and her orders had gone directly against the Satedan warrior. At those times his stormy dark gaze had met hers forcefully…the only times she had any inkling of what he was feeling. He was as unreadable as a brick wall. Perhaps that is why he flustered her so…she was a woman of words. And had been using words to get her way for years. But her words had no effect on Ronan Dex. Ronan, Elizabeth thought, used strength and brute force if necessary when he wanted something., and had no use for mere words.

She picked up her fork to draw a design in her mashed potatoes. Deep in thought she didn't even notice when John and Rodney dropped into the seats around her. Their bickering finally drew her out of her trance when John nudged her arm.

"Don't you agree, Elizabeth?" He smirked at Rodney when Elizabeth looked blankly up at him. "See, Rodney, she agrees with ME."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Rodney sputtered. "She did no such thing!"

Elizabeth hid her smile behind a forkful of potato and tried to follow the argument.

Midway through the dining hour, Rodney pushed his tray away from him & leaned forward on his elbows. He jabbed a toothpick at Carson to emphasize his point. Elizabeth had scooted all her peas to the edge of her plate, and made a hollow in the center of her potatoes. She snuck a glance at Carson to see if he was watching, wondering if she had eaten enough (or rather, played with her food enough) to satisfy him. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to say she was heading to her office when a shadow fell over the table from behind her.

Ronan's arm brushed her shoulder as he dropped his loaded tray on the table and sat down on the bench beside her. Right beside her. Shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, his leg was flush against hers and warm through her trouser leg. Elizabeth squirmed slightly. She resisted the urge to scoot over, not wanting to seem rude. Or draw attention to the fact that she was so very aware of the leg and hip and shoulder to her left. The conversation continued around her, Rodney still punctuating with his toothpick, Carson chuckling now and then at McKay's obstinacy.

The deep throaty voice made her jump. "You're eating." It was a question, although coming from the looming figure beside her, it felt more like an order. She picked up her fork again.

"Yes, I actually had time to come to the commissary and have dinner for a change…" she trailed off, realizing she was babbling. She snuck a glance at his face only to find those dark eyes watching her. She scooped some peas up with her mashed potatoes and took a bite. Satisfied, Ronan concentrated on eating again.

Thigh to thigh, he might as well have handcuffed her to the table. Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to move away, even after she had eaten enough that her stomach was surprisingly full. As a matter of fact, if it wasn't for the muscled forearm brushing against hers every now and then she might even have felt drowsy. Instead, the slightest movement from either of them drew a tingle down her spine that pooled somewhere in her center, oddly comforting and frustrating at the same time. So she stayed.

She could feel his eyes on her again and glanced up to see him looking pointedly at her plate. "I can't eat another bite," she said ruefully. He grunted before scooping up both his tray and her own and leaving the table. The entire left side of her body was suddenly cold. Elizabeth self-consciously got up from the table, expecting a comment from Rodney or John at the very least, about Ronan's chivalry. They hadn't even noticed, though, and were busy clearing their own trays.

"Good night," she said to the table at large, and turned to make her way to the commissary door, but she was too slow. He was already gone. She signed and turned toward her office. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Summary: Smallish story about our straightlaced girl and that guy with all that pent up energy and the awesome, erm, bum (no not Rodney!) Methinks there's a lot more going on under the surface with these two than we see.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance...eventually.

Author's Note: Tingles... Yay!!

3.

Ronan sat on his bed, pointedly ignoring the splash of red on the table beside him. He punched down his pillow to flatten it, then lay back and closed his eyes. Reaching over to turn out the light, his hand brushed the silky fabric of the jacket and he stilled. He flicked the light switch to off. And brought the jacket to his face to inhale her scent. His body reacted immediately and he groaned. Sleep was going to be a long time coming.

Elizabeth massaged her temples, trying to rub the headache away. The stack of reports on her desk had actually been reduced to a manageable 2 inches. She just needed to finish typing up this one last summary and then she could go to her room, take an aspirin and go to bed. She glanced at the clock on her laptop...2 a.m. Great. That meant she would be getting roughly 3 hours of sleep again.

"Headache?" The low, gravelly voice startled her.

"Uh, yes. Too much reading I suppose," she eyed him warily. What was Ronan doing in her office in the middle of the night? He walked toward her desk. Elizabeth's mind raced...had he ever been in her office? And if he had, had he ever walked right up to her desk? She couldn't remember, then couldn't concentrate when he didn't stop at the front of her desk but walked around to stand beside her chair. The room was suddenly very small and crowded and Elizabeth reached up to toy with the necklace she wore. She had to lean back in her seat to look up at him. How tall was he, anyway?

He sat against the edge of her desk and pulled something from inside his jacket. A ball of dark red dropped into her lap.

"Oh," she mouthed. She had assumed this had been sent to the laundry by mistake. She looked back up at him. "Thank you."

His nod was almost imperceptible. "Come on," he straightened up. "You're going to bed." He didn't look back to see if she would follow what was essentially an order, but stopped at the door and turned to wait for her.

Elizabeth smiled to herself. "I guess I'm going to bed," she thought. She pushed away from the desk and shut the lid of her laptop. All of this would wait til morning, she was sure. The thought of sleep sounded better than ever right now. Ronan stepped aside to let her pass through the open doorway. The walked in silence across the gateroom and down the hallways to the sleeping quarters. A few of the night personnel watched as they passed. Elizabeth could sense their curiousity, and smiled to herself. She was as curious as they were. After all, she couldn't think of a single time she & Ronan Dex had ever been anywhere together. Alone. She shivered a little at that thought. In just a few seconds, they would be out of sight of all the city. In light of her recent reaction to merely sitting beside him while he ate, she was suddenly very nervous about being alone with him. This silent walk to her room was almost her undoing, but she bit her lip to keep from speaking. God help her if she started babbling again.

And he was very tall. Standing next to him, walking as they were, almost but not quite touching...her head came only to his shoulder. Elizabeth normally enjoyed her height advantage, which placed her at eye level with many of the men she worked with. But there was something that made her feel very feminine and protected walking beside Ronan. He towered over her, and the size and strength of him made her feel very safe. It occurred to her that she would sleep very well with him nearby, without the ever present fear waking her at every sound. Their arms brushed slightly as they walked, distracting her from her thoughts of sleep and increasing the butterflies in her stomach. On second thought, she wasn't sure she would sleep at all with Ronan in the room.

As they approached the Y in the hall that split off into the hallway contianing his quarters, and the hallway containing hers, she slowed to say good night, but Ronan turned towards her room. "I guess I'm getting the full escort, " she thought. He stopped at her door and looked down at her.

"Good night," he said. Elizabeth thought for just a moment that a smiled played around the corners of his mouth. Of course she was probably dillusional from the headache and the late hour.

"Good night, Ronan." She turned to enter her room but stepped back into the hall when a thought struck her. "Ronan," she said. He stopped, already several feet away.

"How did you know this was mine," she asked, holding up the red jacket. It was an ordinary enough garment, Elizabeth knew of at least 3 other women on base with similar things. Atlantis wasn't exactly a fashion mecca.

His dark eyes met hers and the butterflies increased. "It has your scent," he finally said, before continuing around the corner.

Her eyes widened a little. "Oh," Elizabeth said to the empty hall.


	4. Chapter 4

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Summary: Smallish story about our straightlaced girl and that guy with all that pent up energy and the awesome, erm, bum (no not Rodney!) Methinks there's a lot more going on under the surface with these two than we see.

Disclaimer : Characters sadly not mine, yada yada. Just playing with them for fun, not profit!!

Rating: T

Genre: Romance...eventually.

Author's Note: Things are heating up ;) (sidenote...I didn't intend for John to be so...Kirk-ish. Go figure.)

4.

The smooth expanse of skin seemed to go on for miles. His chest bare, Ronan stood silently in front of her, close enough to smell, to touch. She resisted the urge to bury her face in all that glorious skin. Her fingers played lightly along his collar bone, trailing down the center of his torso. Her hands feathered along his ribcage, and the chiseled muscles of his stomach clenched when she reached his waist. She circled his navel with her forefinger. His breath was heavy, labored in her hair and he moved to brush his lips across her forehead but she turned her head away, dipping to taste the bronze skin so tantilizingly close to her lips. He was warm, salty under her tongue. His hands came up to lightly grasp her upper arms, holding her in place. She smiled against him.

Elizabeth's eyes flew open. The alarm buzzed annoyingly near her head and she slapped at it, succeeding in shutting it off on the second attempt. Her hands scrubbed her face. Dear God, she'd been dreaming. Her entire body felt flushed and she sat up slowly, trying to absorb the aftermath of the dream. She threw off the blankets and poised on the edge of the bed, hissing when her bare feet hit the cold floor. She grinned. Maybe if she ripped all her clothes off and lay on the cool tile it would alleviate this feverish feeling she was having. Then she laughed out loud at the thought of one of her team walking in to find her butt naked, rolling around on the floor.

Suddenly energized, she stood and stretched. Maybe Kate Heightmayer would be in the mood for a walk or some yoga this morning.

Ronan grabbed the hand towel from where he had thrown it on the floor near the door and wiped the sweat from his face. He hoisted his sticks over his shoulder and turn to leave the gym, then stilled at the doorway. On the far side of the room near a span of floor-to-ceiling windows stood a pair of women. Their movements were slow and graceful, yet deliberate and controlled. The sun glinted through the glass, glancing off of the blond, but shining in the dark curls of the other. Elizabeth dipped at the waist, her arms gracefully sweeping foward. The pale pink top she wore fit her slim torso like a glove. It raised slightly in the back with her movements, revealing a thin ribbon of skin. Ronan swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

Someone one nudged his arm and he turned to find John watching the women, his eyes trained appreciatively on Elizabeth's backside, deliciously curvy in the trim, knit pants. "It's called tai chi," he said. "It's sort of like meditation, but with movement."

Ronan resisted the urge to slam his fist into John's left jaw, and simply nodded. "Interesting," he said gruffly. He slung the towel around his neck and pulled hard enough to feel the sting as it dug into his skin. He paused in the doorway, but it was obvious Shepperd wasn't finished ogling quite yet, so strode out of the gym alone.

He tried to concentrate on the tray of food in front of him. He had even voluntarily sat down right in front of McKay, whose incessant pratle was usually enough to give him indigestion. Today, however, he longed for the distraction and McKay was proving himself worthy.

"Just think," McKay said around a mouthful of eggs, "if I can get this to work, you can, for all intents and purposes, have a duplicate of me to carry in your pocket." He smiled triumphantly to the table at large.

"A McKay in my pocket," Ronan droned, deadpan.

"Well, not a fully functional me, but yes, a facsimile of my intelligence and personality." Rodney paused as if carefully considering his words, or perhaps his audience. "It would be like a Blackberry, except with my consciousness." At Ronan's blank look, McKay tried again. "Or a cell phone," he paused. "Small, handheld device you can call people with, like our radios here on Atlantis, but not." McKay continued his explanation, assuming Ronan was still confused.

Ronan hid his smile as he started to eat. His peripheral vision caught a flurry of activity near the door and glanced up to see Shepperd escorting Dr. Heightmayer and Dr. Weir into the commissary. He looked back down at his half-eaten tray and contemplated leaving. He could always come back later. His stomach growled in protest and he sighed in defeat.

Elizabeth grabbed a bagel and a cup of coffee and threw them onto an empty tray. She smiled absently at Kate's chatter and scanned the room, her eyes lighting on Ronan hunched over his breakfast. McKay sat in front of him gesticulating wildly while intermittently drawing something on a napkin. Tossing her curls, she made her way through the crowded dining hall to where they sat. Feeling particularly bold after her invigorating morning, she dropped her tray next to Ronan's and slid onto the bench, not stopping until thigh met thigh. Ronan jumped and she had to grab her tray to prevent her coffee from spilling. He glared at her, but if failed to have the desired effect. Elizabeth smiled sunnily up at him.

"Good morning Ronan," she said. "Rodney." She nodded at the scientist who paused in his explanation just long enough to mutter "good morning" back. She scootched an inch closer to Ronan. His thigh tensed against hers and she smiled behind her coffee cup as she brought it to her lips.

"You're not dressed," he growled low in her ear. Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow in his direction, then looked down at her workout attire. Other than color of fabric, she was wearing as many if not more clothes than she normally wore to work every day.

"Well, I had a workout this morning and thought I'd come straight to breakfast," she paused. "I was hoping you'd still be here."

Ronan's forkful of egg paused imperceptibly before finishing its journey into his mouth. He chewed silently.

Elizabeth tried again. "So what's on your agenda for today," she asked, passing the ball directly into his court.

He waited, but seeing as the newly arrived Colonel Shepperd and Dr. Heightmayer weren't listening, and Rodney was too busy talking to himself, that left only him to answer. "The usual," he said, shrugging. Damn woman. He could smell the workout on her and it mingled with the food smells and the perfume of her hair. The styrofoam cup he held imploded in his hand, spraying coffee on all of his companions. They jumped from the table, protesting, napkins dabbing at the hot liquid that dribbled from all surfaces.

Ronan stood and stalked out of the commissary, dumping his tray into the hands of an unsuspecting dining hall worker on his way out.


	5. Chapter 5

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Summary: Smallish story about our straightlaced girl and that guy with all that pent up energy and the awesome, erm, bum (no not Rodney!) Methinks there's a lot more going on under the surface with these two than we see.

Disclaimer : Characters sadly not mine, yada yada. Just playing with them for fun, not profit!!

Rating: T

Genre: Romance...eventually.

Author's Note: RL sucks. Only time for a short one! You know the "in-between get me to the good part" stuff. ;o)

5.

Elizabeth fiddled with the stack of reports on the corner of her desk, straightening them for the third time that morning. She opened the desk drawer and contemplated the contents. They were too sparse for her to conceivably try to "clean" them out. She slammed the drawer shut and sighed. She was bored. Boredom led to wandering thoughts, which led to images of Ronan, and his avoidance of her for the past two days. She had no idea why she was letting this distract her. Until a week ago she wouldn't have given a second thought to whether or not Ronan was eating in the commissary (not often, or when he was, quickly leaving when she entered); or where he sat in the meeting room during debriefings (as far from her as possible); or what time he went to bed at night (apparently much earlier than she had the past few days, since she'd been in her office until well after midnight and hadn't run into him once. Not that she had tried to.)

At this point, she was feeling pretty stupid. She was trying to be objective about it all, but dammit, he was the one who had gone and made her feel special and protected. Stupid man. She tapped a pencil against her forehead, lost in thought. Had she been out of the dating loop for so long that she could misinterpret signals to this degree? Not that she was considering dating Ronan. Good God. Can you just see everyone's face, she thought. She tapped the pencil again. Of course, Carson would probably ooh and ahhh and think it was "bloody adorable". Rodney might very well be struck speechless, which would be a sight tempting enough to see that it merited more thought. John... Elizabeth grimaced and tried not to think about what John might say. Or do. He was a confusing enough specimen of man all on his own, without throwing something like this into the mix.

Elizabeth tossed the pencil into the drawer and stood, thinking maybe she'd stroll over to see what Carson was up to this afternoon, when her earpiece chirped.

"Elizabeth, do you have time to drop by the lab," Rodney asked. "And bring your laptop, I'm running an experiment."

"What kind of experiment, Rodney?" Her inquiry was met with radio silence. Apparently Rodney assumed she had nothing better to do and would rush right over to do his bidding. She turned around to reach for her laptop. Well, she was bored enough that even one of Rodney's failed experiments sounded better than trying to find something to do in the infirmary until lunch.

Elizabeth entered the lab and stiffened in surprise to see Ronan leaning against a laboratory table near the door. He wasn't normally the scientific observer type, especially not for one of McKay's experiements. She shifted the laptop to her left arm, self-consciously placing it between them.

"So, Rodney, what's this little experiment of yours," she asked.

"Yes, Rodney, what's so important we all had to rush right over for?" John and Teyla entered behind Elizabeth.

Elizabeth had stopped just over the threshold, not wanting to stand any closer to Ronan than necessary. John and Teyla's arrival forced her to move into the room, next to Ronan. Arms crossed in front of his chest, his hooded gaze was unreadable when she looked up at him. Elizabeth stood taller. Fine. Apparently they were back to square one, when he barely spoke to her at all.

"Good, good, you brought your laptop," Rodney barely glanced at them, waving a laser pointer as he furiously punched keys on the pad in his hand. "Ok." He smiled triumphantly. "I'm about to beam out a source code to you." He started to describe the process in detail when Ronan interrupted.

"Is this that whole pocket-sized McKay thing," he asked, his rich timbre incredibly near Elizabeth's left ear. The hair on the back of her neck raised. He was now standing within breathing distance, and Elizabeth tried to ignore her increased awareness of him. If she were to lean e-v-e-r so slightly, she might find her back flush against his chest.

She sucked in a breath at_ that _thought and tried again to concentrate on McKay's rambling explanation. Ronan shifted his weight from his left to right foot, his hip bumping up against Elizabeth's in the process. She stilled. If she moved a hair in either direction, she would break contact. She didn't move. Neither did he.

The tingle of awareness spread when rock hard muscle flexed against her hip. She felt a flush creep up her chest. She stole a glance at John on her other side, but he was completely oblivious. Her gaze darted around the rest of the room, but no one seemed to be paying the least bit of attention to the fact that she and Ronan were practically spooning in the middle of the science lab on a Monday morning.

Rodney's exclamation of "And here...we...go!" drew her out of her trance. He pointed his laser at her laptop and pressed the button.

A brief flash of pale, bluish-white light caused everyone to throw up their arms to shield their eyes.

There was a moment of horrified silence at the suspicously empty spot by the lab table.

"Rodney, where are Elizabeth and Ronan," John asked tightly.


	6. Chapter 6

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Author's Note: Just a little fluffy filler :o) Aw. 

6.

Elizabeth staggered slightly, temporarily blinded by the bright light. Strong hands grasped her upper arms, steadying her. She looked around in confusion.

"Where are we?"

Her hair was mussed, falling into her eyes and Ronan steeled himself against the temptation to brush it aside. He dropped his hands to his sides and moved a step away.

"Looks like an unoccupied part of the city," he said. He kicked a chunk of metal aside as he walked across the room. "I don't recognize it." Between bomb threats, wraith attacks, and general search party missions, Ronan had covered much of the city on foot in the year since he'd arrived in Atlantis.

Elizabeth tried to click on her headset. "I'm not getting anyone on comms," she said, pulling the earpiece from the tangle of curls around her head. She placed it and the laptop on the nearest surface and crossed to the perimeter of the darkened room, working her way in the opposite direction of Ronan. They traversed the large octogonal room in silence, searching for an exit.

"It's here," Ronan said. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. Another 20 feet and they would have met in the middle with nowhere to go and nowhere else to look but at each other. Making her way to where she left her things, she stopped when he spoke again.

"It won't open." He grunted in frustration, fingers prying forcefully at the asymmetrical opening in the door. Even in the dimly lit room Elizabeth could see his biceps straining. He waved his hand back and forth across the access panel, then slammed his fist against the door. Glancing back at her ruefully he said, "Guess one of us should have had Beckett's gene therapy."

Elizabeth smiled at him in spite of herself. "I don't think it really would have mattered in this situation," she waved her hand to encompass the entire room. "More important now is...how do we get out?" She stopped a few feet away from him.

Ronan looked down at her in amusement. "No, more important than that is...what are we gonna eat ?" As if in response, her stomach growled and he chuckled. She ducked her head in embarrassment.

"I didn't have breakfast," she said defensively.

Ronan turned away to investigate the room, tossing over his shoulder "Like you ever do."

Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her, rocking back on her heels. "When I have time and am not swamped in paperwork, sometimes I make it to the commissary for a bagel in the mornings." Her words brought to memory their recent encounter in the dining area, and Elizabeth turned quickly away from his gaze when he looked back at her. "What are you looking for," she asked, diverting attention away from her eating habits. What was it with this man and food, anyway? she harumphed to herself. He was obsessed.

"Looking for something to pry open the door with," he said, his words muffled as he squatted down to shuffle through the debris littering the floor. "Ow," he sucked in a breath and jerked his hand back suddenly.

"What happened," Elizabeth asked, taking a step towards him in alarm. They were in an unoccupied, unknown part of the city. There could be any number of dangerous, lethal objects lying around that they knew nothing about.

Ronan held her off with a flick of his wrist. "Nothing. Cut myself."

She picked her way across the room. "Let me see," she said, reaching for his hand when she was next to him. She pulled it closer to her face to inspect it, but the light was too dim. "Come nearer the window, so I can see better," she gave a tug when he resisted moving. She turned his hand palm up to inspect the cut in the fading light that streamed through the transom window above. It seemed to be a clean cut, but was slowly oozing blood. "It doesn't look deep," she said. She looked up to see him watching her quietly. She dropped his hand.

"I don't have anything to bandage it with," she wiped her palms nervously on the front of her pants. "Do you?"

At that, Ronan grinned. "It's fine."

"No, it's not," she stubbornly insisted and reached for his hand again as he turned to walk away. He stopped but shifted his weight to his other foot impatiently.

"We're going to be stuck here all night if you don't let me get that door open."

Elizabeth busied herself with fishing a kleenex out of her pocket. She was grateful for the darkened room so that the stain of color in her cheeks would go unnoticed. She most definitely did NOT want to think too hard about being stuck here overnight. With Ronan. In the dark.

When she pressed the piece of tissue onto the cut, he hissed between his teeth. She bit the inside of her lip and teased, "I thought it was 'fine'."

Ronan took over pressing the kleenex into the cut to stymie the bleeding and walked away, strong white teeth flashing in the darkness. The woman had a way of making him smile. He reached down for the jagged piece of metal that had cut him in the first place. Looked like a good prying tool. When he reached the doorway, he jabbed the tip of it into the seam. With any luck, they'd be out of here before the next meal time and he intended to make sure Dr. Weir made it to a table. She was hungry.


	7. Chapter 7

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Author's Note: Erm, T is hard to write. I must read too much smut. :o) lalala. Closing in on the end... sniff

Ch. 7

John glared at the back of Rodney's head as the scientist's fingers flew frantically over the keyboard. 

"No, no, no," he mumbled. "This can't be happening."

"Oh, but it is," John said grimly. "You vaporized 'Lizabeth."

Rodney's fingers paused for a split second before picking up their frenetic pace.

"_And_ Ronan," John added. He wasn't getting the usual "Oh God, we're all gonna die...Oh wait! I can save us" speech he normally got from the Canadian. This made him more nervous than he cared to admit. Taking matters into his own hands, he barked orders into his headset, organizing a search party. He paused at the door of the science lab, "I'm assuming they're still somewhere in the city," he ground out between his teeth. "I mean, you didn't beam them into outer space or anything, right?"

"No," Rodney said sarcastically, rolling his eyes in John's direction. "I can guaruntee with the utmost confidence that they are most assuredly _not_ floating around outside our atmoshere somewhere."

John left the science lab without responding.

"At least I hope not," Rodney muttered under his breath.

Ronan threw the metal shard across the room, where it marked the wall before falling to the ground with a clatter. His eyes glittered in the darkness as he swore under his breath in a language Elizabeth didn't recognize. She straightened, bending backwards from the waist to stretch her aching back muscles. She had been sorting through a huge bin of metal, searching for something they might catch water in. It had begun to rain about an hour ago, and Ronan had tossed a broken chunk of cement through one of the windows lining the ceiling. When he muttered under his breath again, she made her way slowly to his side, choosing her steps carefully on the dirty and cluttered floor. Most of the objects littering the room were unsalvagable, even unrecognizable. They had come to the conclusion that this part of the city must have been abandoned even before the ancients left, which would account for the uncharacteristic disarray of the space. The ancients may have left thousands of years ago, but they had taken care to preserve the buildings and equipment for future discovery. Not so this room; it was in complete chaos.

Reaching the sealed door, she looked up at the spot on the wall he was staring at, but stopped short of touching him. Had it been anyone else, she might have placed a reassuring hand on his arm. Unsure of what to expect if she attempted such an action with Ronan, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants instead. He was seething, his chest rising and falling with each breath, although whether from exertion or just plain fury, Elizabeth couldn't tell.

"Sheppard will send a search party," he said grimly, not looking at her. He was angry; angry with himself for not opening the door; angry at McKay for the stupid mistake that brought them here. Angry at the hunger that knawed in his gut. Angry, even, at Elizabeth, who stood so serene beside him, seemingly unalarmed by their situation.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through the room, causing Elizabeth to jump. Ronan smiled to himself, glad even for this tiny dent in her composure. The woman was entirely too calm. When he finally glanced down, she wrinkled her nose at him.

"Startled me," she said. She shivered causing him to look up at the broken windows, the wind now whistling through the openings along with a spattering of cold rain.

"I shouldn't have broken the window," he said. "It's going to get cold in here tonight."

Elizabeth shivered again, although not entirely from the chill now creeping into the dark room. They had stopped assuming they'd be rescued immediately some time ago. It looked as though they were stuck here, possibly overnight. She couldn't imagine John sending out search teams in the darkened, powerless part of the city, especially as night encroached. It would be foolish, and risked injuring someone. No, the search would be called until morning. Which meant she was going to have to reconcile herself to the coming hours alone with Ronan...who shoved past her suddenly in the dark.

"What are you doing," she asked, eyes straining to follow his movements. Thunder clapped again overhead, and lightening illuminated the room enough that she could see him rifling through the metal fragments she had been stacking. He held out a bowl-shaped object in her direction and threw a"grab this," over his shoulder. She obliged, and waited quietly while he found himself a suitable bowl. Next, he started pusing one of the cabinets toward the wall, and Elizabth, immediately seeing his plan began to push on the heavy cabinet as well. With no little effort, they soon had it aligned under the window. Ronan easily stepped up onto the surface and poised their makeshift bowls on the rim of the broken window. With luck, it would continue to rain at least long enough that they might catch enough rainwater to drink. Elizabeth tried to ignore the hunger pains that came on the heels of her thoughts of thirst.

Ronan hopped lightly off the cabinet onto the floor beside her. "Sorry I don't have any rations on me."

She just shook her head, waving off his apology. "Well, we weren't planning on being explorers," she said quietly.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Should have been prepared."

Which was true, and Elizabeth had been berating herself for basically the same thing for hours. Why didn't she have a Powerbar in one of her pockets? They had become lax in the past few months, lulled into a sense of security with the mundaness of their day to day activities, she supposed.

After a few seconds she realized he hadn't moved away from her. He was so close his body heat radiated across the space between them. She could feel his eyes on the top of her head, but found she couldn't meet his gaze. In fact, she was rooted to the spot. She watched his chest fill with air before he spoke.

"We should sleep. The time will pass faster." Still he didn't move away. Flashes of the previous week's dream teased her tired mind. She longed to place her palms flat on that chest, feel him solid and warm underneath her fingertips. She had walked into the gym's dressing area once when he was getting into the showers, catching an accidental glimpse of his naked torso, towel slung low on his hips. She now vividly remembered the way the shadows had played over the muscles of his abdomen. She also remembered the multiple scars that marred his skin. At that, she nearly did touch him, urged to sooth way any lingering memories of his time before Atlantis.

Ronan stepped back, and her fingers curled into her fists in disappointment.

They had cleared a rectangular space on the floor earlier, just in case they had to spend the night. He dropped down now, onto the hard floor. It was not entirely clean, nor comfortable, but he had slept in much worse places. Stretching out on his back, he placed one arm behind his head and closed his eyes.

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I guess we're turning in," she thought. Rubbing her arms to generate a bit of warming friction, she crossed to the far side of their cleared rectangle and lay down. The smooth, hard floor was like ice. She tried to ignore the gritty, dirty feeling underneath her and concentrated instead on wrapping her arms and legs as tightly as possible around herself to conserve heat. She yelped when a large hand closed around her ankle.

Ronan tugged forcefully and she slid across the floor, landing next to him. He rolled to face her and steeled himself against the fact that her hips were now at eye level. Grabbing her waist before she could react, he pulled her the rest of the way down, tucking her into his side. "You'll freeze," he said, closing his eyes again.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to snuggle in tighter, but did scoot a bit closer to his warmth. She sighed and fell promptly asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Author's Note: Ahh, plot devices how I love thee. Quickest way to get our lovebirds from point A to point B. (Besides, I couldn't figure out how to get them wet and nekkid, so this will have to do ;o) Oh, and this Ch. is dedicated to all you hateful writers who have left me hanging on a cliffie. Hee.

8.

The words in a foreign tongue woke her first. She sat up on an elbow and looked around groggily, wincing at the soreness in her neck and back. The room was pitch black and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. After a blank moment, she remembered where she was. The body beside her tensed and a large hand grabbed a fistful of her trouser fabric, gripping it for dear life.

Ronan moved restlessly on the floor, and Elizabeth ducked to miss a swinging arm. She leaned over him, whispering his name in soothing tones. She had always heard not to wake someone from a bad dream...but he was moaning now. Whether from terror, fury or pain, she couldn't tell, but she couldn't let him continue this way. For one thing, she might end up with a black eye. She leaned farther across his chest, laying her hands lightly on his shoulders.

"Ronan," she called softly. His eyes popped open, dark and wild. Before she could tell him he was only having a bad dream, his hands grasped her upper arms and pulled her on top of him forcefully.

"Ro-," she opened her mouth to call out, but he took advantage of her position and neatly flipped her underneath him before slamming his mouth onto hers. His body weight effectively pinned her in place; Elizabeth couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to.

And she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Strong lips moved over hers, his tongue teasing its way into her mouth to play a sultry game of hide and seek with her own. Just as her lungs were screaming for air, he released her lips to mouth a trailing kiss down her jawline and then onto her neck. Gasping, she knew she should stop, should make him stop, should do something. But she couldn't concentrate on anything except that mouth and the way it moved over her skin like she was a dessert meant to be devoured. Her hands were trapped between them, and she wiggled them now, wanting to touch him, his face. God, she wished there was some sort of light in here so she could see him. It was like being seduced by an invisible lover.

Wrenching her hands free, she was finally able to bury them in the mass of his hair, pulling his head back up from her collar bone to meet her lips again. This time she took control, nipping at his bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth. Large, deft hands passed from her shoulders to her hips and back again, familiarizing themselves with the curves of her body. A muscular thigh wedged itself between her legs and she hooked an ankle around his calf to hold him firmly in place. His mouth parted her lips in a kiss that was gentler this time, searching for permission instead of entering at will. Fingers paused when they reached the pull tab of her zippered top.

Ronan stilled. He pulled back slightly, but they were so intwined at this point he couldn't go far. Elizabeth could just make out his face in the dark and read the confusion there. His eyes followed his fingers down the zippered front of her top before racing back to meet her eyes. Her hands left his hair to slide down his biceps, resting in the curve of his elbow.

He groaned before rolling off of her, covering his eyes with his forearm.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to compose herself. "What the hell just happened here," she thought. She felt oddly exposed lying beside him in the dark.

"Sorry," he mumbled, the words muffled behind his arms. "I was dreaming."

Elizabeth didn't answer immediately. How could she? He may have been dreaming, but what was _her_ excuse? Shame and embarrassment flamed in her cheeks, and for once tonight she was grateful for the cold tile floor. She rolled away from him to press her hot face to the floor.

Ronan uncovered his eyes, realizing she hadn't said anything. He glanced at her back, rigid in the dark beside him. He leaned up on an elbow and reached to lay a hand on her hip. She flinched under his fingers.

"Elizabeth," he said softly.

Her eyes flew open. He had never used her given name. She tensed, but turned onto her back slowly and as she did, his hand slid from her hip to her stomach, causing all sorts of butterflies to dance inside of her. His little finger lay warm against the exposed skin of her midriff where her top had ridden up.

She finally looked at him.

Ronan started to apologize again, but the words died on his lips at the soft look in her eyes when they traveled over his face. His stomach muscles clenched in an attempt to rein in an overpowering, long-forgotten feeling rising in his chest. Briefly he wished he had time to carefully consider this feeling, where it came from and why it appeared here and now. But her eyes met his again and he lost the ability to think clearly. He leaned over to claim her lips once more. This time she met him, the kiss deepening until both were breathing heavily.

He lay his forehead against hers, taking in the scent that was so uniquely hers. His fingers pushed their way under her top, splaying across her stomach. Elizabeth traced a line from his eyebrow to his jawline, longing to follow the same path with her lips. Ronan closed his eyes at her touch before touching his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Elizabeth whimpered. He smiled into her neck and nipped lightly, making her squirm underneath him.

He reached for the hem of her top, peeling it up her torso slowly. Pinned beneath his thighs, she wiggled her hips, feeling inordinately proud of his muffled groan.

"Ronan? Elizabeth," a voice called from outside accompanied a loud banging on the door. "Hey guys, are you in there?"

The search party had found them.


	9. Chapter 9

_Underneath _by jemima-blue

Author's Note: Gah, I'm such a fluffy bunny. I have lost all control of this story. :o) This was supposed to be the end...but I lurv RonanLiz. --pets them-- (So no shocker if I have to revisit!)

9.

Ronan was on his feet so fast Elizabeth's head swam. She barely had time to catch her breath before he reached down and hauled her up to stand in front of him. His eyes lingered on her lips for a second (was that regret she saw?) before striding quickly to the sealed doorway. She smoothed her hair, tucking any strays behind her ears.

Ronan described the door situation to John, whose muffled voice could be heard conversing with someone on the other side. She stepped carefully across a pile of debris to stand at the door with him, but his eyes were trained on the seam, listening intently to those on the other side. After interminable seconds of staring at the same spot on the wall, she chewed on her lip. Was he ever going to look at her?

Briefly, she considered returning to the cleared but dirty spot on the floor and just going back to sleep.

"Hey, I think we've got it!" John's voice carried through the wall, echoing as if he were at the bottom of a well. "Try pulling the doors open now."

Ronan ran his fingers down the seam in the door again, trying to get a firm grasp. Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her. She _could_ help. But that would most likely require her to stand very close to him. Touching, probably. Her eyes slid to the side. His pulse was fluttering near the base of his throat as he strained to open the doors, and she watched it bump against the smooth, tan skin covering his carotid.

The door began to move, a crack of light from John's flashlight piercing the darkened room. Ronan's triumphant grin flashed down at her, making her knees all wobbly. John and Rodney's fingers joined Ronan's in prying the door apart.

"Man, are we glad to see you," John exhaled in relief. "Zelenka was pretty convinced Rodney had toasted the both of you." Behind him, the Czech's mouth fell open as Rodney turned to glare at him.

Arms still crossed, Elizabeth smiled wearily. "Thank you, all of you." She stepped out of the room, allowing Radek to take her arm and then wrap a warm blanket around her shoulders. She nodded at him gratefully when he offered a bottle of water.

John was busy slapping Ronan on the back, but did pause to cheerfully pass his teammate a bottle of water too. As soon as the weary survivors had drank their fill, the group gathered their things to begin the long walk back to the hub of the city.

"So, what did you two do all this time, stuck alone in that smelly old room?" Rodney asked impulsively. Elizabeth swallowed, carefully choosing her answer, but Ronan was faster.

"We talked," he lied.

"Oh, I'm sure," Rodney said, sarcasm dripping from the words. His complaint of "You always tell me to shut up when we're stuck someplace..." faded into the dark night as they walked.

By the time they reached the gateroom she had given herself no less than three stern lectures. And convinced herself that perhaps those last 30 minutes she had spent in the dark, abandoned room wtih Ronan had been a figment of her overactive imagination. He had yet to speak to her, or even look in her direction since they had been rescued. She found she was tired beyond reason, the past several hours catching up with her, and she excused herself from the others to retire to her quarters.

Ronan watched her go. As they traveled from the darkened side of the city he had followed her, placing himself strategically between Elizabeth and John, who had a habit of walking in her shadow. Mindful of their companions, he hadn't touched her. But his eyes narrowed each time Zelenka tucked the slipping blanket into place. Now, his eyes followed her as she left the gateroom.

The search team, the initial high of finding their lost members long gone after the long trek through the city, sleepily turned in for the night. Ronan stalled outside his quarters, watching and waiting as they each disappeared into their consecutive rooms. He assumed Dr. Weir would prefer as few raised eyebrows about this thing they were about to do as possible.

Assuming she was still amenable to doing it.

Elizabeth barely had the energy to peel her grimy clothing off, falling into bed in her pajama top and panties. The matching pink flannel pants lay forgotten at the end of the bed as she slipped under the covers. She flicked the switch on the lamp by her bed and sighed tiredly. A chirping pierced the sleep-induced fog surrounding her brain, but she didn't react to the sound of the door hissing open. Then closed.

Heavy footsteps crossed the floor to her bed, then paused. A heavy weight shifted the mattress under her causing her to slide slightly toward the source. A calloused hand slid under the blanket and pushed her back into place.

"Move over," a gruff voice said.

Fighting sleep, she tried to focus on the large figure looming over her bed. It should have frightened her, she supposed. Except that she would know that shadowy outline anywhere. She scooted over, protesting when the blanket was lifted and a draft of cool air snuck underneath. Then she was pulled close, warm chest meeting her back. She hissed at the coolness of a leather-clad leg when it pushed its way between her thighs.

"You're wearing pants," she mumbled. The leather quickly warmed under the heat of the blanket and she snuggled in contentedly. "But no shirt," she thought happily. That definitely deserved more research. Later. When her eyes weren't crossed from fatigue. A heavy arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place.

"Be still or we're not waiting until you've slept," he said low in her ear.

Even as sleep pushed itself into her consciousness, she felt her heart grow lighter. He was here. Elizabeth was glad she was too tired to concentrate on the implications of this day. It could wait. She smiled sleepily and wiggled again, causing the arm to tighten. "And eaten," she murmured. "I need my strength."

Full lips brushed her shoulder, smiling. "Don't push it."

Exhausted, they slept.


End file.
